


The Serotonin's Gone

by orphan_account



Series: PBB 2015 [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (basically a lot of fluff and a lot of sadness oops), Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, angsty smut, buttsecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4991350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Being in love with Dan Howell is incredibly draining, and Phil's not sure he can keep up with it anymore.</p><p>-</p><p>“It’s okay,” he mumbles, running his hand through Dan’s hair. “You’re okay. Everything will be okay.” </p><p>Dan cries harder, burying his head into Phil’s neck. He won’t stop trembling, won’t stop shaking and Phil wants to take him into their bedroom and keep him there forever. </p><p>“I promise you it’s okay. I’m here. I’ll protect you.”</p><p>Dan falls asleep with tears streaming down his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Serotonin's Gone

**Author's Note:**

> **iris:** so hell fucking yeah my 2nd pbb fic!!!!! i wrote this together with the amazing [writingphanfiction](http://writingphanfiction.tumblr.com) but they don't have an ao3 account smh. it's honestly been a long ride and i hope you expected a lot of angst from me because that's what you'll get (i'm evil muahahahaha
> 
>  **gray:** okay guys so this was super hard to write tbh bc i don't write angst or collabs often but yeah!! i am v proud of myself and iris for this fic and i'm so glad bc this fic helped me grow closer to iris!! i hope u guys enjoy  <3
> 
> art by the amazing [iansjeff](http://iansjeff.tumblr.com) (they haven't posted it yet but i'll link to it when they do i promise)  
> beta'd by [wanty0urchokehold](http://wanty0urchokehold.tumblr.com) thank u robyn!!!!!!!!!!!

“Dan?” Phil asks, rubbing his eyes. It’s three in the morning, but Dan’s still awake. Normally that wouldn’t be Phil’s problem, but all he wants is some sleep and Dan just keeps stumbling around. “Please come to bed. I’m tired.”

Dan’s sitting on the sofa with his laptop propped up on his chest. His eyes are red-rimmed when he looks at Phil and Phil has to repress the urge to walk over and hug him until he falls asleep. He would, but he’s tired and his bones ache.

“I think I’ll stay here a bit longer.” Dan’s voice is shaking from lack of sleep and Phil walks over to him anyway. He sits down next to Dan, grabbing his right hand and linking their fingers. Dan’s hand is overheated from lying on his laptop for so long and Phil tugs on it, half-heartedly trying to pull Dan into him.

“You’ve been working your ass off for the book. You deserve to get some rest.” Phil means it. Out of the two of them, Dan has been the one who’s done all the editing plus the entire trailer. He feels a little bit guilty, but Dan usually shrugs it off like it’s nothing and he can handle it.

“I’m almost done,” Dan soothes, “I’ll come to bed after I’ve finished reading over this chapter, okay?”

Phil nods reluctantly, letting his head fall to Dan’s shoulder and kissing it. Dan’s collarbone isn’t exactly comfortable, it’s really bony despite him putting on some weight over the years. Dan shifts a bit, making more room for him and Phil slides into his side.

He shakes his head, trying to stay awake but his eyelids keep sliding shut. Dan is warm next to him and his constant breathing lulls Phil to sleep.

 

* * * * * 

 

Phil wakes up with a warm body wrapped around his. He raises his head to look up at the surroundings and squints when a beam of light falls on his face from the nearby window. Phil can’t remember how he got on their bed, but he can’t help but smile as he feels Dan’s body next to his.

He reaches up to run a hand through Dan’s curly hair. Dan’s eyes open to meet his own and they radiate warmth and comfort and home.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Phil mumbles, and Dan yawns, his arms leaving Phil’s waist and stretching them above his head. Phil shifts; his side feels cold.

“Morning.” Dan’s voice is raspy with sleep and he wipes the back of his hands over his eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them. He knows that Dan will taste like morning breath but he decides it’s worth it as he leans forward to peck his boyfriend’s lips.

“Don’t,” Dan mumbles against his lips. “Morning breath.”

Phil smiles, his lips curving into a grin against Dan’s. “I know. I don’t care.”

Dan huffs, pushing him away and back down onto the bed. He’s grinning, his dimples popping up and Phil leans up to kiss one of them.

“At least give me some time to brush my teeth,” Dan smirks.

“Fine,” Phil pouts.

He knows he looks ridiculous when Dan laughs, standing up and walking to the bathroom. Phil waits until he hears the tap running to follow him to the bathroom.

The lighting hurts his eyes a bit, the LED reflecting off the mirror as he walks through the door. Dan’s eyes deadpan in the mirror, a mock glare directed at him.

“I’m not even done brushing my teeth,” he says around the toothbrush, a little toothpaste dribbling down the side of his cheek and he looks so goofy that Phil snorts.

Dan glares at him again, still keeping his back to Phil and going back to brushing his teeth with immaculate focus. It’s adorable. Phil can’t help but to wrap his arms around Dan’s waist from behind and plant a small kiss on his neck.

Even through the brushing that he is occupied with, Phil can still hear a small sigh from Dan as he keeps going, brushing his lips on the underside of Dan’s jaw. Dan kicks his shin, trying to get him to back off but Phil just smirks and bites down.

Dan moans, a hand reaching back to tangle in Phil’s hair as he chokes on the toothpaste in his mouth. Phil chuckles, his hot breath running over Dan’s exposed neck and making him shiver. Phil grazes over Dan’s neck with his teeth, teasing the skin lightly and presses himself closer to Dan’s back. Dan’s breath hitches as Phil bites down on the junction of shoulder and neck.

“Fuck,” Dan gasps as Phil sucks a bruise into his skin.

Dan leans forward suddenly, placing both hands on the sink to steady himself. Phil groans as Dan leans away from him, spitting in the sink and wiping over his mouth quicker than Phil’s ever seen him done it. He turns around, letting his arms rest around Phil’s shoulders as he pushes them together needily.

Dan crushes his mouth against his and Phil is suddenly ten times more awake as Dan lets his fingers wander to rest in Phil’s hair. Phil moans against Dan’s mouth, kissing Dan like he’s the only source of oxygen and pressing him back against the sink.

“You know,” Dan murmurs through the kiss, his words tumbling onto Phil’s lips. “I think I might need a shower too.”

He punctuates it with a roll of his hips into Phil’s, making Phil’s breath catch. He feels heat pool low in his stomach, a want surging through that makes his mind filled with clothes off now. He nods hastily and lets him go reluctantly, stripping off his pyjamas and pants.

Dan turns on the shower, his back to Phil and his hair a mess and Phil can’t help himself as he presses himself flush against Dan’s back again, sucking another bruise into the base of Dan’s throat.

“Impatient,” Dan chokes out, his voice quiet as he tries to catch his back. Phil whimpers a bit, he can sympathise.

Phil gets into the shower first, tearing himself away from Dan and feeling the hot water beat down onto his body. Before Dan gets in, he gives himself a bit of relief by wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking himself a few times.

Phil smiles up at him as Dan steps into the shower next to him. He kisses Dan languidly, trailing his lips over Dan’s, separating every few seconds. He lets his mouth trail further down onto Dan’s neck again, marking Dan and making him lean his weight onto Phil, small moans and gasps escaping him.

He trails his hand down Dan’s chest, letting his fingers drag around Dan’s nipples, not quite giving contact. He teases him like this for a moment before taking Dan’s nipples between his fingers and rolling them slightly, making Dan whimper. He eases the pressure before letting his hands travel downwards again and slowly wrapping his fingers around Dan’s cock.

Dan’s head falls back in a throaty groan as Phil starts, moving his hand fluidly and agonizingly slowly. The water’s made a mess of him, his hair curling more than usual, the steam warming his cheeks, making them flush red. The acoustics of the shower make Dan’s moans louder and more noticeable than normal but Dan seems oblivious to them and it makes Phil run his thumb over the slit, just to see how loud Dan could get.

Phil’s thankful that they’re in a shower and nobody will hear them, because Dan keeps getting gradually louder and Phil knows it’s because he’s getting closer.

“Jesus Christ Phil,” Dan swears, the end turning into a moan and it drives him to stroke faster, to pull Dan closer to the edge. He focuses on Dan’s breathing, his moaning, how he’s unravelling in Phil’s hand. His eyes are shut, his hair a mess from gripping it tight and Phil sees how his muscles tenses and then relaxes as he comes over Phil’s fist.

Dan looks beautiful as he comes down from his high, his chest heaving, brushing against Phil’s every so often, and his cheeks completely red. Phil lets him relax for the moment, simply leaning in to peck Dan’s lips quickly. Dan smiles against his lips, waiting a second before kissing back. It catches Phil off guard; he hadn’t expected Dan to recover so soon. Dan leans down, leaving a trail of kisses down to his jaw and neck. He doesn’t leave marks but continues his trail, kissing Phil down from his chest, to his torso, to his thighs.

Dan teases for a bit, not quite giving contact, brushing his lips over Phil’s inner thighs and looking up at Phil through his eyelashes, smiling sweetly. It’s driving Phil crazy. Dan slowly and methodically makes his way to Phil’s dick, hovering over it, not doing anything. He then carefully, making sure not to give relief or solid contact, licks up the length of Phil’s cock.

“Dan, I swear to God. If you don’t-” Phil starts to say before he’s cut off by a strangled moan when Dan takes almost all of him into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard all at once. Phil tangles his hands into Dan’s hair as Dan starts bobbing his head up and down, his lips giving the slightest bit of friction as he goes.

Phil is hyperaware of everything Dan’s doing, his tongue that’s circling the head of his cock before tracing over the vein at the underside, his saliva that is dripping down his chin unwillingly, his eyes that continually peer up at Dan through everything. Phil can see his eyes start to water as he unconsciously thrusts forward, forcing his cock a little deeper into Dan’s throat.

Dan’s hands come up to pin his hips against the ice-cold tiles of the wall behind him and Phil hisses when his sensitive skin comes in contact with it. Dan eases off, only taking the head of Phil’s cock and working it with his tongue and lips, dipping his tongue into Phil’s slit and watching his body shake with the intensity. His hand comes up to work at the base of Phil’s cock, stroking the parts that he doesn’t have with his mouth. Phil is a mess under Dan’s hands and mouth and he can’t help but come undone, a fire burning through his veins as he comes in Dan’s mouth.

Dan works him through it, swallowing everything down until there’s not a drop left. Phil feels boneless, completely blissed out, and he’s grateful when Dan rises to his feet and puts an arm around his shoulder to support him.

“That was something,” he mumbles, burying his face in Dan’s shoulder. He can feel Dan’s chuckle reverberate through his chest.

“It certainly was.” His voice is hoarse and Phil lets out a little groan when he hears it. “Let’s get dry off and get back to bed, shall we.”

Phil mumbles something incoherent against Dan’s shoulder, a small noise of protest, but Dan disregards it and leans him against the wall while he fetches towels for the both of them.

“I can dry myself y’know,” Phil groans when Dan wipes the towel over his skin. Dan looks up at him with a grin.

“Maybe if you were coherent, yes. You’re totally out of it.”

“I‘m not out of it,” Phil mumbles, but Dan snorts and goes back to drying, Phil feeling too sleepy to protest.

Dan smiles, the edges around his face going soft. “Of course you’re not.”

Phil hums a reply, threading his fingers through Dan’s hair. The strands are still wet but they’re soft and Phil wants to bury his face in them, so that’s what he does.

“What are you doing, you nerd,” Dan laughs, but he lets Phil indulge in it and Phil just nuzzles into Dan’s hair.

“You smell good,” Phil mumbles. “Kinda like spice... And home.”

“I think I melted your brain.”

Phil can see the tips of Dan’s ears turn a pretty pink and he kisses one of them, running his hands over Dan’s face, over the bridge of his nose down the slope of his cheekbones. He can’t get over how soft Dan is, how soft and sharp and brilliant and his.

“You melt my everything.”

“I surely hope not.”

Phil chuckles as Dan hoists him up, letting him lean on Dan - he doesn’t really need it to be honest, but if Dan’s offering, he’s not going to refuse. He huffs when Dan throws him down on their bed and slides in next to him as Phil gets comfortable.

“Just go back to sleep,” Dan mumbles, closing his eyes and rolling over. Phil smiles and tucks his back against his chest, burying his nose in the nape of Dan’s neck.

 

* * * * *

 

When Phil wakes up, he can’t help but feel disoriented. He glances towards the window, his vision blurry. He blinks, reaching over to the nightstand to put in his glasses. The London skyline always takes his breath away in the afternoon, buildings silhouetted by the sunset. He can’t quite remember why he has slept this long, or why Dan isn’t next to him, until he hears singing coming from the kitchen along with a smell wafting into the room and into Phil’s welcoming nose. He chuckles. Dan’s singing sounds horrible.

He feels strangely sated somehow, a warm feeling settling in the base of his stomach and curling there. The rumbling coming from said place tells him a different story though, and he scratches across his face, stubble moving against his fingertips. The warm feeling rapidly disappears when he realises his sleeping schedule is going to be off now. That, and because he’s starving.

Shrugging off his annoyance, he walks into the kitchen. Dan is humming and singing a song that Phil doesn’t recognise while distractedly making what seems to be stir fry. Phil smiles fondly at him, Dan still unaware of Phil’s presence until Phil walks up behind him, letting his hands wrap around Dan’s waist.

Dan jumps slightly before realizing that it’s just Phil and relaxes in Phil’s hold. Dan’s nose bumps against Phil’s face as he turns around and Phil snorts. Dan rolls his eyes, letting his arms rest on Phil’s shoulders, Phil’s own hands still around Dan’s waist and maybe trailing a bit lower. Phil deepens the kiss and they’re lazily making out against the counter, enjoying the smell of stir fry and their spare time and each other. Phil can feel Dan’s lips pull up into a smile and Phil kisses the edge of his mouth up to his jaw, then to his ear. He takes Dan’s earlobe in his mouth and sucks lightly, making him sigh out.

Sometimes, Phil can’t believe how incredibly lucky he is to have Dan. This beautiful, giggly and wonderful person, who-

There’s a blaring siren, and Phil jumps away from Dan’s touch, immediately covering his ears from the loud noise. Then - he realises, Dan had left the pan on the heat. There is smoke billowing up from the pan, and as he approaches the stove he can smell the tell-tale scent of burning food.

“Fuck!” Dan shouts and he tries to jump forward and almost lands face-first on the pan. Phil grabs his elbow at the last second and pulls Dan back against his chest before he quickly turns off the stove. Grabbing a towel to carry the metal pan with to the sink, he turns on the tap, pouring cold water over the sizzling skillet.

“Jesus Dan, don’t burn yourself,” Phil hisses as soon as the smoke stops and the smoke detector stops beeping, Phil turns his heel to look at Dan.

Dan hasn’t moved at all during the whole situation, still just standing there. He looks confused and guilty, his arms drawn up close to his body.

“I- I just wanted to kiss you, Phil, I’m sorry,” Dan stammers, not looking at Phil. Phil rolls his eyes before tugging his wrist away from Dan’s grip.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t kissed me, that wouldn’t have happened.”

He hadn’t really meant for it to come out that venomously and he feels guilt pooling in his stomach when Dan winces, pulling him in for a quick hug.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, letting Dan bury his head in Phil’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“I know.”

 

* * * * * 

 

Things are okay after that, even though Phil still feels horrible about it. He shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have snapped at Dan, but he’d stopped apologising after Dan forced him to. (And after he’d cooked stir fry to make it up to Dan.)

So things are okay, they really are. Until they have to go to the book publishers for a meeting, and Dan takes ages to get ready. It’s driving Phil mental, because they’re already five minutes late but Dan insists on standing in front of a mirror at least twenty minutes before they go out.

And they haven’t even hit the ten minute mark yet.

Phil runs a hand over his face, trying not to sigh, because Dan isn’t responding to his texts either. He decides to walk over to the bathroom, banging loudly on the door.

“Yeah, yeah!” Dan yells. “Give me five more minutes and then I’ll be done.”

“We’re already five minutes late!”

There’s stumbling coming from the other side until Dan slides the lock open, looking a little panicked. Phil resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?”

And that has Phil rolling his eyes, because that’s what he’s been trying to tell Dan for the past ten minutes, and now he has the audacity to yell at Phil like it’s his fault? He clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes.

“I did. You just didn’t listen.”

Dan bites his lip - god, Phil really needs to buy him some lip balm - and Phil sighs exasperatedly before pulling him along, ignoring Dan’s protests about wrinkling clothes and ruined aesthetics. Which is what Dan chooses to focus on when their fucking jobs are on the line.

“Ow, Phil! I’m sorry okay!” Dan shouts and Phil looks at where he’s grabbing Dan, releasing him when he realises his fingers are digging bruises into his skin. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He doesn’t look at Phil after that, not even when Dan almost runs into him when they’re getting into the cab. He feels guilt swirl in his gut.

“I’m sorry Dan,” he mumbles, lacing their fingers together. “I’m just a bit snappy lately.”

Dan squeezes his fingers, finally looking at him, and he smiles. Phil still sees the off-thrown look in his eyes.

“It’s okay, I know it’s hard when you’re on your period.”

Phil laughs at that - sticks and stones may break Dan’s bones but his sense of humour will never fade - and tells himself they’re okay. He doesn’t miss the way Dan’s eyes flit down every so often, but they’re okay. They are.

 

* * * * * 

 

The bruises on Dan’s arm don’t disappear until a week has passed. Dan laughs it off and tells him he bruises easily, but he looks down every time he says it. Phil isn’t that worried though, because they’re okay, Dan said it himself.

“Hey Dan?” he says when they’re filming a video. “Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

Dan deadpans, his eyebrow raised in sarcastic question as he looks at Phil. Phil grins at him before turning to the camera.

“Because he was a fun-ghi!”

Dan throws his arms in the air, flailing them around like Phil’s joke was bad - which, to be honest, it was. Phil can see him bite his cheek to keep his grin in check though, and it’s hard to resist kissing it.

At moments like these, he’s reminded why loves Dan this much.

 

* * * * * 

 

He finds Dan crying once. It’s on a Tuesday night, and it’s pretty much a normal Tuesday. He doesn’t really get what’s wrong, why Dan’s crying, but he joins him on the sofa anyways.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Dan shrugs, resolutely keeping his back to Phil. He chokes on another sob, Phil’s heart squeezing when he hears it. Dan’s trembling, his back shaking with tears and anxiety and Phil pulls him into his lap, into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles, running his hand through Dan’s hair. “You’re okay. Everything will be okay.”

Dan cries harder, burying his head into Phil’s neck. He won’t stop trembling, won’t stop shaking and Phil wants to take him into their bedroom and keep him there forever.

“I promise you it’s okay. I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

Dan falls asleep with tears streaming down his face.

 

* * * * * 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks Dan the next day, just because he knows Dan. He knows Dan won’t admit to needing help until everything explodes and he takes Phil with him.

Dan manages a half-smile, his cheek un-dimpled, and Phil half-smiles back. Dan’s hair is sticking up, there are bags under his eyes and he looks like a wreck. Phil wants to hug him and never let him go.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse - with sleep or tears, Phil doesn’t know. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He walks up to Dan when Dan goes back to making cereal, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and kissing his neck, nuzzling into the skin and inhaling Dan’s scent.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know. I love you too.”

Phil pretends not to notice the way Dan stiffens when he says it.

 

* * * * * 

 

If Phil’s being honest, he knows that he’s good when it comes to romance, usually. And by dating Dan six years and counting, he knows the things Dan will appreciate. Expensive restaurants, movie nights, fancy wine. Usually when Phil does these things it’s for a celebration or anniversary in their life. But not this time.

There is something off about Dan in the way that he’s acting - and Phil’s noticed it. The crying thing - almost always, Dan will tell Phil about what’s bugging him and Phil can make it better. But when Phil had asked, Dan brushed it off. It made Phil a little annoyed despite the situation. Why can’t Dan trust him? Phil is his boyfriend, shouldn’t he tell him about these things?

God, what if it was Phil that was making him feel bad?

He brushes off the thought easily, sweeping it under the rug in his mind. It’s not possible, it’s not likely. Their relationship is unbreakable, right?

Phil shakes his head, trying to clear it of thought as he began to make the sandwiches for his and Dan’s lunch on the kitchen counter. This is what he’s decided to do to try to make Dan feel better: a picnic on a sunny afternoon. He’s been planning this ever since Dan told him about that one time he went picnicking with his family, and this is the perfect day for it, only a few clouds in the sky and the weather is pleasant and nice.

Just as he’s putting their sandwiches into a bag, Dan walks into the kitchen. Phil’s stomach drops a bit as he looks him up and down. He looks like a wreck. Dan’s face is blotchy and he looks like he’s been punched. His hair is greasy and curly on his head, and while Phil usually loves Dan’s ‘hobbit hair’, he can’t help but think that Dan’s hair just looks unhealthy. He’s wearing pyjama pants and an old oversized t-shirt of Phil’s with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Phil checks his watch. It’s two in the afternoon.

“Uh, hey sleepyhead. I thought you were already up,” Phil muses, trying to not sound too worried.

Dan looks him up and down, similar to what Phil did to him. Phil knows he’s completely dressed and showered, and they look completely different. He feels guilty all of the sudden but he doesn’t know why.

“Is that lunch?” Dan asks, his eyes connecting with the sandwiches wrapped up in saran wrap on the counter.

Phil’s eyes widen. He doesn’t really want to admit it to himself, but after seeing Dan like this… Well, he’s not sure he wants to go on a picnic anymore. The idea itself was nice, and if he had an ideal boyfriend to come waltzing into the room fully dressed and showered and giving him sweet kisses while getting ready to go, he’d want to go. But Dan - Dan isn’t like that.

“Uh, yeah. One’s for me, one’s for you,” Phil breathes out, handing one of the sandwiches to him. Dan smiles at him, then, and Phil feels another flood of guilt as Dan moves slightly forward to kiss Phil on the cheek.

It’s not the same anymore. Something feels weird when Dan leans away from him. His chest doesn’t fill with warmth every time Dan looks at him, his head isn’t filled with constant thoughts of how amazingly lucky he is for having such a wonderful person. All he can think about is Dan’s bad breath and chapped lips.

“I think I’ll eat in the bedroom,” Dan says, and it might’ve sounded like an invitation to someone else, but to Phil, it sounds like a closed door.

Phil eats his lunch in a picnic on the lounge room floor. Dan eats his a flight of stairs away. Phil hates the fact that he’s relieved.

 

* * * * * 

 

After that day, Phil notices Dan’s gotten a little better with keeping himself together - getting up earlier, making breakfast usually, and showering more. Phil still feels guilty about the way he looked at him, that he hadn’t taken Dan on a picnic - but mostly, now, Phil’s fine with hanging out with Dan. For some reason, affection feels little weird, still, but he’s sure it’s just a phase.

Phil yawns as Dan shuts off the lights in the lounge, getting back onto the sofa to lay practically on top of Phil, his head leaning close on Phil’s shoulder. Phil smiles down at him. He’d missed film nights a bit, and Dan did too if the small smile on his face is any indication.

Although Dan’s favourite film is playing on the TV, he seems distracted, looking more at Phil then the actual film. Phil turns his head in Dan’s direction, about to ask him what was wrong before he’s cut off with Dan’s lips on his own.

It’s not one of those kisses just to show affection or romance. Dan’s lips are moving fast along with his tongue, and Phil can feel how desperate he is just through the kiss. Dan sits up more, to get a better position, sitting on Phil’s lap, his legs straddling him on either side.

Almost immediately, Dan starts grinding down on him, and Phil can’t say that he isn’t enjoying it. He missed this, they haven’t really done anything sex-related for a while and Phil is admittedly a little desperate too.

Dan kisses down his neck, letting his lips explore Phil’s jaw, grinding hard onto Phil. He lets out a gasp when Dan begins sucking on his neck, slightly nipping at the sensitive skin, leaving a hickey. Phil’s eyes roll back and all his mind can think is that they’re wearing too many clothes, they need to get off.

Phil’s hands begin to roam, first stopping to tug at Dan’s shirt, silently asking him to take it off, and then wandering down to Dan’s ass. He’s just wearing sweatpants and pants, and Phil is grateful that neither of them are wearing jeans. He lets his hands rest on Dan’s ass, squeezing for a moment before squeezing harder when Dan lets out a moan against his neck, whimpering every time Phil’s hands move.

“Please,” Dan gasps, “please, Phil.”

Phil’s mind is racing, all the blood rushing to his cock and he’s too distracted to notice that it’s a plea for much more than just sex. He hooks his thumbs into Dan’s waistband, pulling his sweats down together with his pants, and he smirks when Dan shivers.

He lightly drags his fingers over Dan’s thighs, to his tummy and kisses a trail up and down Dan’s neck, sucking marks into his skin. He licks up Dan’s neck, and Dan lets out a strangled noise from the back of his throat. It’s weird to Phil, knowing all of the places that drive Dan crazy, but never using them anymore.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he groans into his skin and Dan whimpers in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” Dan whispers and something in Phil breaks. He wraps one hand around Dan’s cock, the other roaming over Dan’s chest like he’s trying to memorise everything. Dan’s back arches off the sofa as he bucks up into Phil’s fist.

Dan looks like he always does, his hair curling with sweat, flushed red and whimpering every time Phil’s skin so much as touches his, but everything is different now.

“Phil,” Dan chokes out and Phil feels his throat close at the look in Dan’s eyes. “Please.”

Phil nods, biting his cheek when Dan moans as Phil moves his hand from Dan’s cock. He coats his fingers in lube, before curling one inside, adding another one and he groans when Dan’s mouth falls open. It’s so familiar, Phil’s heart painfully squeezes in his chest.

Please please please and Phil oh my god reach his ears and he removes his fingers, pushing himself forward, slowing easing into Dan. His fingers shake as they press bruises into Dan’s hips, he doesn’t see the way Dan flinches slightly, only focusing on the whimpers coming from his mouth as Phil rocks his hips forward, making Dan arch his back.

There’s a fire burning in his veins, tingles running up and down his spine as he comes, Dan’s come splattering over them both.

“Thank you,” Dan whispers after they’ve both cleaned up and Dan’s head is on his chest. Phil smiles at him and ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach and the voice telling him that this is a bad idea.

He shifts. He loves Dan. He does.

 

* * * * *

 

“You still love me right?” Dan asks him. Phil’s head shoots up. Of course he still loves Dan.

“Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

It’s almost an automatic response nowadays. Dan’s been a constant in his life since 2009, always capturing Phil’s attention and love without even trying. He doesn’t even think about the possibility that it’s not true, because it is. It has to be; it’s always been that way.

“Nothing,” Dan shrugs like it isn’t important, but Phil doesn’t miss the way this shoulders droop. He pets the spot next to him on the sofa, scooting over when Dan sits down. He doesn’t realise he’s creating distance between them until Dan flinches.

“It’s something, I can see it. I know you, Dan, just tell me please.”

Dan picks at the sofa, brushes some imaginary lint from his jeans and he stays silent. It’s almost like Phil isn’t there.

“Please, Dan. Let me help you.”

“I don’t know okay, I’ve just been feeling off the past few days!”

Phil flinches when Dan raises his voice, the sound seemingly echoing through the entire city. Dan’s always had a loud voice, but Phil’s never minded it, not really.

“I’m sorry,” Dan says, finally looking at Phil and Phil feels something inside of him burst. “I just- I don’t know what to do.”

Phil shifts, biting his lip and moving over to make room for Dan, and Dan gratefully takes the spot and rests his back against Phil’s chest.

Phil wonders what it’d be like to not have someone bargain for your attention all the time.

 

* * * * *

 

Dan’s been restless all day long, and it’s getting on Phil’s nerves. He’s been shifting, tapping rhythms on his legs and normally Phil would’ve watched his long fingers gracefully move against the fabric of his jeans, but Phil isn’t really feeling it today.

He doesn’t want to ask Dan what’s wrong, why he’s so nervous, but Dan’s rambling about fucking cat food for some reason and Phil’s honestly had enough.

“What’s the matter with you today?”

Dan stills, his eyes growing big and Phil knows he’s said something wrong. He brushes his hand through his hair and looks down at his own fingers, effortlessly hooked in his pocket. He smoothes them back down - he really needs to stop doing that.

“You really don’t know what’s happening today?”

Dan’s voice is small, vulnerable, and Phil feels like a prick for not knowing what’s so important about today. He’s already checked to see if it’s someone birthday, but the calendar came up empty, so he shakes his head. Dan looks down.

“Today’s the day I’m going to hit five million subscribers.”

“Oh wow, really?” Phil asks, trying his best to sound excited for Dan but he knows he isn’t pulling it off. “That’s so much, congrats!”

Dan avoids looking at him for the rest of the day.

 

* * * * * 

 

“Phil!” Dan shouts from the bedroom. Phil sighs and pretends he doesn’t hear it. He’s writing the book, and he’s on a roll right now.

“Phil!”

“What is it?!” He flinches when he realises how rude that sounds. He didn’t mean it like that. Apparently Dan has shrugged it off though, the waver that’s usually in his voice whenever Phil snaps pleasantly absent when he continues to shout down the hallway.

“Could you get me something to drink?”

Phil glances from the kitchen to their bedroom and back to where he’s sitting. Dan’s being a lazy shit again and it feels him with a strange kind of agitation.

“You’re closer to the kitchen, go get it yourself!” he shouts back and he hears Dan sigh loudly. Phil rolls his eyes, his fingers almost punching holes in the keyboard. Can’t Dan leave him be for one second?

“Phil? Please?”

Phil knows that tone, knows the look that probably accompanies it and usually, he’d do anything Dan asks when Dan uses that face, but not today. Today it crawls under his skin and bites him and he doesn’t want to do it.

“Please.”

Phil sighs and stands up, not even flinching when the chair scrapes noisily over the floorboards, because he wants Dan to shut up for once, he wants to finish this part of the book but Dan won’t fucking let him.

He traipses over to the kitchen, loudly slamming with the door and pouring some Ribena into a glass, just because he knows Dan doesn’t like it that much and if Dan’s going to fucking whine about everything then he should be prepared to face the consequences.

“Enjoy your Ribena,” he bites out when he hands the glass to Dan, and Dan watches him leave with wide eyes.

 

* * * * * 

 

The party wasn’t anything they’d planned to do this week. If it were a normal one they wouldn’t even have considered going - Netflix, anime and Internet is enough to keep you entertained for most nights - but if they wanted to keep their jobs as Radio DJs for the BBC, they didn’t really have a choice.

And that’s how Phil ends up at a bar, Dan out of sight. He knows he should be worried, but he doesn’t really care right now. The alcohol soothes the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth, filling him with a kind of warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Someone offers to buy him a drink - a guy, green eyes, probably in his mid-thirties - and he declines, reminding himself that he’s with Dan. He pushes himself off the stool, glancing around to look for Dan, but he can’t find him. He ignores the voice in his head telling him Dan isn’t okay right now.

He’s never really liked crowds, they make his skin crawl and constrict his lungs. He loses himself in them tonight, the mass of crawling bodies on the dance floor.

He doesn’t realise he’s looking at other people until Dan looks at him, a crestfallen look on his face.

 

* * * * * 

 

It’s quiet. Everyone and everything is silent. It’s almost like they’ve all disappeared overnight, leaving Phil alone with his thoughts.

He can’t get the look Dan gave him out of his head, the tears shining in his eyes, mouthed turned downwards and shoulders dropped, looking like Phil’d betrayed him.

They haven’t been sleeping in the same room for a week now. Phil almost wouldn’t have noticed it if it wasn’t for the lack of warmth and breathing. He wants Dan to come back to him, wants to apologise for behaving like that, wants to kiss him so hard Dan can’t breathe because that’s what they’ve always done.

That thought shouldn’t bother him so much. That’s what they’ve always done. When did being in love with Dan start feeling like a burden, instead of filling him with warmth?

 

* * * * *

 

“Can I get a hug?” Dan asks the next morning. Phil opens his arms and Dan runs into them, but it feels different somehow. Dan is still tall, still warm, still feels like home, but it’s different and it makes Phil’s stomach turn.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you.” Dan’s voice breaks when he says it and Phil does too. He feels himself start to tremble, because this isn’t Dan’s fault, it’s his.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers into Dan’s sweater. “I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t know what he’s apologising for, but he clutches Dan like a lifeline and Dan grabs him back, pulls Phil into him, giving Phil a comfort Phil isn’t sure he can provide anymore.

 

* * * * *

 

“I’m going to the store, do you want me to get you something?” Dan asks. Phil shakes his head, even though he knows Dan can’t see it.

“No thanks.”

He sighs, completely focussed on the email he’s writing. Dan shouts something at him but he ignores him. He doesn’t realise Dan’s gone until the door slams shut and everything is silent.

It used to unnerve him, the quiet. Dan’s loud voice was always ringing through the apartment and Phil loved listening to it.

Now, he finishes his email ahead of schedule.

 

* * * * *

 

Dan’s lying on top of him, his eyes twinkling with fondness and Phil cards his fingers through Dan’s hair, curls catching softly on them. Dan’s body is warm against his and it makes Phil feel like he’s choking.

“I love you,” Dan breathes. It sounds more like a prayer than a statement.

“I love you too.”

He pretends not to notice how Dan’s hands clench into fists when he says that. He loves Dan, he always has.

“I know,” Dan answers and when Phil looks up his eyes are still twinkling, still that brown but there’s another layer, one Phil isn’t too eager to find out. Instead, he grabs Dan and pulls him down, hugging him until Dan complains about suffocation.

He isn’t ready to let go yet.

 

* * * * *

 

They never came out. They’d talked about it once, in 2011 when everything was still alright and they weren’t fighting. They’d never done it.

Phil understands why Dan didn’t want to now.

Now that he’s standing in the kitchen, watching Dan put a pizza in the oven, he understands why. Dan’s bustling through the kitchen, occasionally closing the cupboard doors Phil would leave open and looking at Phil with smiles that used to brighten his world but now just look like everyone else’s.

Dan was scared this would end some day.

Phil’s always known Dan’s scared about this, always known why Dan’s scared about this, and he’s always promised himself he would never hurt Dan that way.

But now, watching Dan prepare dinner like he has a hundred times, he feels guilty. Dan’s smiling at him, looking at him and Phil doesn’t think it’s fair, because Dan is wonderful but he can’t do this anymore.

Phil is scared Dan was right.

 

* * * * * 

 

He’s out to get some groceries when it hits him. He walks past the London Eye, the rain dripping from its carriages and he feels reminiscent, for some reason. He looks away, keeps on walking but the picture of the Eye is stuck in his head, playing over and over again until all he can think about is their first meeting when everything was still okay and Phil loved him so much that it almost hurt.

He thinks of Dan’s smile, of dimples and teeth that he couldn’t keep his hands nor his eyes off and it drove him insane. He bites his lip when he realises how much he misses that smile, a sinking feeling - something that vaguely resembles guilt - in his gut and he wants to make Dan smile, wants to see it and feel like that again.

He just doesn’t know how to do that anymore.

 

* * * * * 

 

There’s something weird about today. Phil’s chest feels off, and Dan hasn’t come out of his room yet. They usually sit in the lounge together every morning, even though they don’t talk. It’s what they’ve always done. Phil can’t find a reason not to, so he’s still in his pyjamas at 3pm.

When Dan finally gets out of his room, when Phil hears the door open, he sighs. Dan took long enough to get ready. When he turns around, he sees Dan standing in nice clothes, a suit jacket and a nicer pair of jeans along with a button-up. He’s holding a box. None of these are the most important component of the picture, though. Phil’s eyes rest mainly on one thing: Dan’s face.

He looks… crumpled. His eyes are red and his face is blotchy, screwed up as if he’s trying to stop himself from crying. His lips are red and bitten, and Phil thinks he sees a little blood. He wants to move forward, want to console Dan, but Dan is standing in the doorway of the lounge, as if not sure if he’s welcome.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks, gesturing Dan over.

Dan shakes his head. He looks a little unstable, as if he’d explode if he’d talk. He gives Phil the package, and quickly makes his way out of the room.

He almost darts his way out to follow his boyfriend but he can’t bring himself to do so; he’s too curious about the package. Phil undoes the ribbon, marvelling at the preciseness of the wrapping, the metallic of the paper. He takes it off carefully, and opens the box.

Inside, there’s a picture frame. The frame has a photo of Dan and Phil inside of it, one that Phil barely recognises. It’s of them in 2009, Phil’s arm draped lazily around Dan. They’re standing in front of the Manchester Eye. It’s the first day that they met, and the day that they first kissed, and the day that Phil asked Dan to be his boyfriend.

October nineteenth, 2009.

October nineteenth!

Phil quickly brings up his phone, checking the lock screen. It reads: Monday, October 19.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Phil doesn’t know what to do. Mostly, he’s just cursing himself. It’s their anniversary, and he didn’t even remember. Why didn’t he set a notification for that?

He’s basically hyperventilating as he runs to Dan’s room, remembering why he’d never set a notification. There was something his mom had always told him when he was younger: remembering dates is the key to anyone’s heart. He had made sure that he had that date memorised, and he really didn’t think that he would need to set a reminder. Why would he not remember the most important day of his life?

Fuck. He wish he would have thought about the possibility of that not being the most important day of his life anymore. Phil realises as he’s knocking on Dan’s door that this is definitely still the most important day of Dan’s.

Dan doesn’t respond to the first time Phil knocks. He leans in, to see if he can hear Dan doing anything, and he hears crying. His gut twists. He’s such a bad person. He’s such an asshole. Dan deserves so much better than me.

“Dan?” he asks. “Can I come in?”

A sob rings through the apartment. Phil winces, his heart squeezing with guilt and love and everything he wants to tell Dan but can’t.

“Dan?”

It’s quiet except for Dan’s whimpers. Phil can already see it; Dan curled up in their duvet, tears streaming down his face, curling on himself and Phil pushes against the door.

“No,” Dan whimpers before Phil’s opened the door. “No. Leave.”

“Dan, I-”

“Leave.”

Phil grabs his coat, his keys and he slams the door behind him.

 

* * * * *

 

Phil hoped Dan would be sleeping when he came back. Awkward encounters weren’t exactly his forte, even though they happened relatively often.

He flinches when the door slides into the lock behind him. The apartment is quiet and every breath he takes seems too loud. He blinks when the lamp turns on, his eyes adjusting to the light. Every room is pitch black except for the slight glow coming from the living room.

He hears sniffling before he realises what it is. Dan is clutching a pillow to his chest, his chest heaving and his body trembling. Phil frowns and walks to his own room.

If this were a few months ago, he would’ve done something about it. If this were a few months ago, he would’ve felt guilty.

But he doesn’t and right now, he can’t care less. He’s tired and he wants to sleep.

He falls asleep to the sound of Dan’s whimpers.

 

* * * * * 

 

When Phil wakes up the next morning, he feels all the memories flood back into him almost immediately. He remembers the picture frame of Dan and him in 2009, a photo he can’t help but disassociate himself from. He remembers the redness around Dan’s eyes, the sound of his whimpers. The way he slammed the door on the way out.

Phil can’t help but to feel like shit for not trying to comfort Dan, for sneaking past him the night before. He feels even worse for remembering how little he cared that Dan was upset. It was scary but the fact was that the only thing that compelled Phil to comfort Dan is that he should- because that’s what good boyfriends do.

Phil almost laughs at the words ‘good boyfriend’ shifting around in his head. He’s way past the point of being a good boyfriend.

He has enough decency to get out of bed and make coffee for the both of them, realising as he sneaks by the lounge that Dan had fallen asleep where he was crying the night before, curled up cuddling a pillow. He’s snoring softly and he looks peaceful, and Phil feels a pang of guilt in his gut. The only time Dan can be peaceful nowadays is when he’s unconscious.

He brews coffee quickly, pausing to watch the brown liquid collect at the bottom of the pot and to listen to the noise that the coffee always makes. He makes two mugs out of it, putting two sugars and cream in Dan’s, making the coffee as sweet as Dan loves it. He wonders silently if Dan will get another boyfriend in the future. Will he make coffee for Dan, know how many sugars he wants?

Probably. And he’ll probably also remember every anniversary, birthday and every date that is important to Dan.

He makes his way to the lounge to see that Dan has woken up but not moved from his position from earlier. Phil can see him staring out the window, like he wants to go out here, wants to get away from Phil. Phil wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Are you okay, love?” Phil asks him. The once familiar nickname feels foul coming out of his mouth, but he covers it up by giving Dan a cup of coffee. Dan stares at it like Phil’s never given him anything else and Phil flinches when he remembers last night.

“I’m fine,” Dan says, but Phil hears the crack in his voice.

Dan’s never been fine, not one hundred percent. Phil loved him for it anyways. He remembers the times Dan clutched at him like Phil was his only hope.

Phil’s returning the favour and he prays that Dan hears the silent apology in it, the unspoken ‘I’m sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t mean to.’

When Phil feels Dan’s nails dig into his shoulder blades he knows Dan’s paying him back for all he’s done.

The stinging doesn’t feel like enough but Phil will take all he can get.

 

* * * * * 

 

Dan’s gone for the day, busy with the book publishers and his ideas. Phil knows Dan doing it alone is some sort of twisted retribution for everything Dan feels like he’s done wrong. Phil’s nails dig into his palm.

Dan isn’t the one who’s done something wrong.

A few months ago, he would’ve told Dan it wasn’t his fault. A few months ago, Phil would’ve cared more about how Dan felt.

A few months ago, Phil was still in love with him.

Phil flinches. It feels strangely definitive when he thinks it out loud, and he doesn’t want to know what he’d feel when he’d say it. He presses his lips together and picks up the remote, his toes curling into his pyjama pants in an effort to warm up.

He thinks of the last time Dan and he sat together like this, Dan curled up into his side, his hands clamped together on Phil’s feet as he made jokes about Phil’s cold toes. He misses that, in a way, the warmth and familiarity they had together.

Phil cringes when he mentally says ‘had’. He doesn’t want it to be over yet.

 

* * * * * 

 

They’re staring at each other. It’s something Phil hasn’t done in a long time. He knows Dan always stares at him, so much even the fans noticed, but Phil has tried to avoid looking at Dan too much.

The problem was, that he could never look away for too long. There was something about Dan that just compelled him to keep looking, like he would disappear if Phil stopped.

He wonders if he maybe didn’t look enough.

He’s making up for it right now, staring at Dan whenever he has the chance. He can tell Dan doesn’t like it when he does that, he can see it in the way his shoulder tense and the way he worries his lip between his teeth, biting until the flesh has become red. It makes them look more alluring in a way, makes Phil want to bite it until it bleeds, but it also makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He looks away quickly when Dan looks at him from the corner of his eye, a glint that means both ‘stay the fuck away from me’ and ‘please, come back’. Phil’s not sure if he can.

Technically speaking, he never even left, if you leave out the times he’s slammed the door in Dan’s face. Technically speaking, he still loves Dan.

Just not in the way he used to.

He’s not sure when it changed, or why, but it did. Somewhere along the line, the butterflies stopped, the warmth disappeared and Phil closed himself off. And he’s sorry for it, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

So now, they just stare at each other. Until Phil brings it up, or until Dan finally cracks. Phil sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

He’s not sure if he wants that to happen.

 

* * * * * 

 

It’s a Thursday night, and he hasn’t talked to Dan in three days.

It seems like some sort of nightmare, a slowly descending nightmare that Phil from a year ago would have never imagined. There isn’t anything that about his current life with Dan that makes him happy, nothing that benefits him. He’s constantly anxious, guilty, sad or angry, and he knows that Dan has it much worse.

Phil is aware that Dan’s suffering. Although he’s also positive that Dan will be upset when he finds out that Phil is leaving, it’s the right decision to pack up his stuff and leave.

It’s the strangest thing in the world to have so many shared things with Dan. They only have one tripod shared between the both of them. Most electronics, like the computer in the office, was originally one of theirs, but now it belongs to both of them and the previous owner is long forgotten. Countless items in their apartment are gifts from one to another or stuff that they paid together. This makes packing ten times more difficult.

Finally, Phil decides to pack light. He knows that Dan might throw away some of the things that he and Dan jointly owned, or stuff that Phil ‘owned’ but won’t take along with him, which makes Phil’s chest hurt a bit, but he can’t fathom taking apart their flat to get everything that’s his out of there.

Instead, he just takes the stuff that’s distinctly his- his laptop, his camera, his clothes and duvet cover and a few of the decorations around the room that he’s particularly fond of. He looks through the chest of props at the foot of his bed and the contents make him feel queasy.

Inside of the dusty box he hasn’t opened in forever, there’s so many things from Phil and Dan’s past. The Super Amazing Project blazer. Dan, Phil, Justin Bieber and the Queen masks. His ancient camera that he used to film videos with, long since broken. The sharpie that they had used in the first phil is not on fire video.

The last one in particular makes Phil want to turn away. He remembers after pinof, when he kissed Dan slowly, lovingly, with no other thought but Dan, Dan, Dan. He remembers Dan admitting to being scared because this was his first time staying with another boy, and Phil remembers leaving the closet light on because Dan is afraid of the dark. He remembers when he was about to toss the sharpie into his desk drawer when Dan caught his arm, and he remembers when Dan said, “Keep the sharpie. I feel like it’s going to be important.”

The box is too painful to look at, the contents too reminiscent of the past. He’s not sure which would be worse, Phil taking all of the objects for himself or Dan throwing them away when he leaves. He decides on simply taking the sharpie, and he slips it into his backpack pocket, feeling guilty but not being able to imagine that object leaving his sight.

He’s almost done with packing, almost done with this flat. When he looks over his room, making sure he didn’t forget anything super important, he sees the picture frame with the picture of them inside of it - the gift from Dan for their anniversary.

The photo represents many things now. Every time that Phil looks at it, he’s reminded of the day that he forgot Dan and his anniversary. The picture brings back the sound of Dan’s crying from the other room, his weak voice asking Phil to leave. It makes Phil feel guilty and angry at himself, and for a moment he’s compelled to throw the picture frame across the room.

But the actual photo itself, Phil is in love with. It shows their relationship from 2009 perfectly- Phil with his arm over smaller Dan, Dan looking like he’s truly happy and deeply in love, the way Phil hasn’t seen him look in a long time. The frame captures a time in their life where they were both completely head over heels in love with each other, and Phil wishes that they were still like that, but he can’t change what’s already happened to them.

He carefully opens the frame and slowly shifts the photo out of the glass. He lets his fingers glide against the glossiness of the photo before folding it up into a square and slipping it into his wallet.

It’s feels final, all of this. It is, and Phil knows that, but there’s still a selfish part of him that wants to stay, that doesn’t want to leave this behind because these years have been the best of his life.

He clenches his fist, steels himself against whatever may come and pushes open the door. He can hear the familiar tunes of Dan’s whistling coming from the kitchen, and he quickly recognises it as Toxic. It makes him half-smile a bit. It reminds him of when everything was good and they were happy together.

He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until he can’t differentiate between any of them anymore. Everything seems too loud, his footsteps, the rattling of the coffee pot and another set of footsteps coming his way. Phil slows down for a second, his back tensing, and he starts up again, going faster and faster but he knows he’s not going to make it.

“Phil?” Dan’s voice comes from behind him, weak and vulnerable and so, so much like six years ago that the sound of it almost hurts. “What are you doing?”

He freezes, the grip on his suitcase turning white-knuckled until his hands begin to tingle and he releases it. Dan’s holding two coffee mugs, dressed in his trackies and bleary-eyed, his hair sticking up on all sides and it looks so familiar, Phil is almost tempted to stay.

“I’m leaving.”

The words hang quietly between them and he watches as realisation spreads over Dan’s face, confusion, sadness and finally anger. His brows furrow and he stalks forward, putting the coffee mugs down on the cupboard before he walks over to Phil. Phil swallows at the unexpected final act of kindness, if it were him, he’d thrown burning coffee at him.

“What?”

It’s gentle, questioning, surprisingly so. Phil had expected screaming, crying, and it would’ve been totally justified, but the desperation in Dan’s eyes throws him off balance.

“I’m leaving. For good.”

Dan’s face crumbles, tears rolling down his cheeks as he begs Phil to stay with his eyes, the eyes Phil fell in love with but now he feels nothing but guilt and regret when he looks into them.

“Why?” Dan mumbles. “Was I not good enough? I can change, I swear, please don’t go.”

It feels like a punch to the gut, a hot feeling swirling in his stomach before bile makes its way up his throat. He doesn’t want to do this, he wants to stay with Dan and tell him everything’s going to be alright, just like it’s always been, but that wouldn’t be fair. He can’t do this anymore.

“I’m sorry but it’s too late,” he whispers. “And it’s not worth saving.”

Dan keeps looking away from him, eyes fluttering between the suitcase, the door, and Phil. Phil ignores the knots in his stomach, the churning, and he clenches his hand again. He turns, preparing to walk away because no matter what Dan says, it’s better off this way.

He fully expects the hand on his shoulder, long fingers curling over the bone and nails digging into his skin and it reminds Phil of how it used to be, how those fingers would press bruises into his skin with a different purpose.

“You have to let me go, Dan,” he says, his voice cracking. The sound of Dan’s sobs fill his ears, echoing in his head but it makes him steel further. If he doesn’t leave, this is going to keep happening.

Dan’s hand glides down from his shoulder to his hand, Dan’s fingers fluttering over his bare skin as he touches his fingers to Phil’s hand, just like he did in Manchester that first day and it makes Phil jerk away and walk forward, his hand stilling on the handle. It feels surprisingly cold for a warm day like this, and it ironically reminds him of what’s happening right now.

“Bye.”

He opens the door and blinks the light away in his eyes, the sound of the city greeting him, a welcome distraction from all that he’s leaving behind.

As he walks out the door, he grabs his suitcase and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah, that was a thing!!! please tell me what you thought?
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> [my tumblr](http://demisexualhowell.tumblr.com)  
> [gray's tumblr](http://writingphanfiction.tumblr.com)


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